


the mystery of the missing puppy

by you_idjits



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:12:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2446595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/you_idjits/pseuds/you_idjits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a tumblr post (see notes) of AU ideas: “Your cat keeps getting into my house and I don’t even know how would you care to explain,” with a few modifications.</p><p>Or, the one where Dean is dog-sitting for his brother, except the puppy keeps mysteriously getting into the neighbor's apartment.</p><p>Or, 900 words of cavity-inducing fluff, featuring Dean, Cas, and a puppy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the mystery of the missing puppy

**Author's Note:**

> From [this post](http://loganmunroe.tumblr.com/post/99762662812/alright-but-have-you-considered-letter-found-in).  
> Definitely listen to the song [Blame it on Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4ifSrE8iSg) by George Ezra while reading.  
> Crossposted on [tumblr](http://shootingstarcas.tumblr.com/post/99856209764/a-dean-and-cas-au-900-words-from-this).

Cas shuffles the puppy under his arm, reaches forward to knock on the door. “Sam? It’s me, Castiel.”

He hears footsteps, the door swings op, and _oh_ \- that is definitely not Sam Winchester.

“Hey, he’s not home right-” The guy stops, hand on the doorframe. He swallows. “Oh. Um. Hi. I’m Dean. Sam’s brother.”

Cas finds his throat dry, his mouth suddenly incapable of shaping words. This – this is Sam’s brother? The “goofy, obnoxious loser” Sam so often talks about? But he’s, well, he’s hot. Really hot. Tall, clean-shaven, soft freckles across his cheeks. Suddenly, Castiel feels very, very lightheaded. “Uh,” he stutters, sticking out his hand, “Castiel. Cas. I live next door.”

He should be embarrassed by his staring, but then, Dean’s staring too. Finally he takes Cas’s hand, his own warm and a little dry.

“He’s just, uh, he’s out of town,” Dean says, and right, Cas was looking for Sam. Wasn’t he? “I’m house-sitting. And dog-sitting.”

Right. Dog. Cas remembers just in time the squirming puppy under his arm. “You’re not doing a very good job of it,” he says, clearing his throat.

Dean’s hand slips off the doorframe, and he stumbles forward. “Wait, is that Bones?”

“I believe so.” Cas holds the puppy out with both hands. It’s a soft, golden thing, with the cutest pink tongue slipping out. He’d been rather surprised this morning to find it on his living room floor.

“How did he get out?” Dean asks. He reaches forward and takes the puppy, cradling it against his chest.

“I have no idea,” Cas says, “but it’s happened twice this week.”

“Do you want to- that is, do you want to come in?”

Though Cas has been living beside Sam for a year now, though they’ve gone for drinks together a few times, he’s never been inside the apartment. “Yeah, please. We should probably solve the mystery of the missing puppy.”

Dean snorts, opens the door wider to let Castiel inside. “So you, uh, you’re my brother’s neighbor? I think he’s mentioned you.”

“Yes, well, he’s certainly mentioned you.”

Dean’s step falters, but he covers it well. “Yeah? What’s he say?”

They walk into the living room, where Dean unceremoniously drops the puppy on a couch. Cas takes a moment to absorb his surroundings, the bookshelves and the family photos. He recognizes Dean in one of them, beside Sam and a sleek black car.

“He says you’re hardworking,” says Cas, crossing to look more closely. “He says you like Star Wars. It, ah, came up once.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“I have a limited-edition model of the Millenium Falcon in my apartment,” he says, and follows it with, “Is that a 1967 Chevy Impala?”

There’s a crash from behind him, as if Dean tripped over something. When Castiel turns, he realizes that something was the dog.

“Friggin’ mutt,” Dean grumbles. “I don’t know why Sam likes the thing. Uh, yeah, yeah. That’s my car.”

“She’s gorgeous,” Cas says. _You’re even more so_ , he thinks.

Dean comes up behind him. “Wait, so you know cars, you like Star Wars, and you have a limited-freaking-edition model of the- hang on, can I see it?”

“Sure,” Cas shrugs, trying not to imagine _Dean in his apartment Dean in his bedroom._ “But first, the puppy.”

“Right, right. I have no idea how- damn.” Dean stops, spins in a circle. “Do you, by any chance, live on that side of Sammy?” He points to the left wall.

“Yes,” Cas says. “Is that relevant?”

“Well,” Dean says, with a lopsided expression, “I know how he got into your apartment. That’s some Mission Impossible crap, right there.”

“What?” Cas says. He follows Dean’s gaze, to the bottom of the wall, where a gray vent cover sits beside an open vent. “Oh. _Oh._ ” It’s just big enough for a very small puppy to fit through.

Dean crosses the room, drops to his knees. Cas follows. “Yup,” Dean says. “This goes straight through to your place.”

“The screws on the cover came loose,” Cas says. “I was going to redo them this weekend.”

“And I was doing maintenance on Sammy’s side. Took the cover off last Saturday, forgot to put it back.”

Cas puts a hand on the vent cover. So this is it. Mystery solved. “Maintenance? Are you a mechanic?”

Dean looks at him sideways. Licks his lips. Cas tries and fails not to drop his gaze. “Nah, not really. I’m a firefighter. But I, y’know, work on the fire engine. I tinker.”

“Good with your hands, then,” Cas says, before his brain catches up with his mouth.

They are really close to each other, here on the floor. Cas can feel Dean’s body heat through the thin space between them. Dean is barefoot in blue jeans and a Rush t-shirt. Cas has seven Rush albums in his apartment.

He decides he wants to kiss Dean. Even more so when Dean says, “Can I see your Millenium Falcon now?”

“Maybe later,” Cas says.

And that’s how he ends up making out with his neighbor’s brother on the floor of the apartment. The puppy goes through the vent again, looking pretty damn smug about it as he does, but they’re too distracted to notice.


End file.
